Avengers Reassembled
by Lucinda
Summary: An effort to recreate the Avengers in the world of the X-Men movies.  Each chapter will focus on a different character.
1. Iron Man

Avengers Reassembled: Iron Man  
  
author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
main character: Tony Stark (Iron Man)  
  
disclaimer: Iron Man is the creation of Marvel comics. I hold no legal rights and am making no profit from this.  
  
distribution: Paula, anyone else please ask first.  
  
note: I am attempting to revise things to fit the Avengers into the world of the X-Men movies. So, this will most definitely be AU.  
  
Tony Stark was sitting in his office, a cup of coffee grown cold on the corner of his desk, papers spread in front of him. Anyone that glanced in would assume that he was studying the projections for the next quarter's earnings and considering the proposed budgets for the various research projects for Stark Enterprises. Had the hypothetical person been looking in ten minutes earlier, they would have been correct. But at this very moment, Tony Stark was caught up in his own private musings. He was lost in an old game, the 'What If?' questions. What if his researchers discovered... What if there was a serious equipment problem, what if the government decided that they wanted to buy some of his products for military use... and then the musings took a more personal turn. What if Vanessa hadn't left him, what if he'd had the courage to ask Talia out in college, what if he'd enjoyed college a bit more and studied a bit less, what if... Might as well start at the beginning, and wonder what his life would have been like if he'd been born with a normal heart.  
  
But he hadn't been born with a normal heart. While he understood it's faults and flaws now, he hadn't when he was young, and his mother probably still didn't. His father hadn't when he'd died. The family doctor had told them that he might not live to adulthood, might never have a normal active life. Dr. Schuyler had said that if he pushed himself to hard, his heart would collapse, and he would die. Serious and frightening words for a pair of young working class parents.  
  
That had been part of the motivation for his parents to try again, to hope for a 'normal baby'. His father had wanted a son to carry on the Stark name, to follow in his footsteps. They'd produced two daughters before a drunk driver had hit the car that Maria and her sister had been in, injuring both of them, causing Maria to miscarry the baby that they'd been hoping would be a son. They'd lost thair second son, born to soon, and almost lost Maria, so injured by the accident and torn inside by the miscarriage. She'd survived, but there had been so much damage and scarring that she would never be able to have another baby.  
  
They'd had to focus all over again on the idea that Tony, somewhat small and frail looking, would be their only son. It had been Grandpa Thomas that had suggested that maybe some careful exercise would strengthen Tony's heart. After all, he'd reasoned, the heart was a muscle same as the others, wouldn't a bit of work make it stronger?  
  
So he began a careful program of exercise, starting with periods of walking, and careful patterns of motion. None of it very strenuous, just things that kept him moving, having him stretch and bend and flex. Tony didn't try out for any sports teams in school, although he was able to manage gym class safely. To his surprise, the event that he did the best on with the annual fitness testing was the four hundred meter run. He wasn't the fastest runner, but by the time he was twelve, he could run through the course without becoming entirely breathless, only breathing a little faster at the end, instead of collapsing to the ground, or gasping red faced for air. Tony Stark wasn't quite that frail after all. But things like basketball or football made him feel a bit dizzy, and his chest felt too tight. So, while he might have been stronger, and not likely to just suddenly die while reading a book, he wasn't as fit or healthy as a normal teenage boy. By the time he started college, nobody remembered his weak heart except his family.  
  
Tony found the classes in Business and Finance almost easy, and began adding more classes to keep himself challenged. Higher-level math classes enabled him to study metallurgy and engineering, as well as various scientific theories. Between that and a pre med roommate with a few ambitions for developing bionic replacements for failing limbs and organs, Tony Stark had an idea. Most likely, it was an idea that hundreds, maybe thousands had conceived of before, but the more he considered it, the more it grew on him.  
  
He had a weak heart - why not invent and build something that gave him a way around it? Not a bionic heart, he didn't have the medical knowledge for that, but... what if he created a battle suit, something that could be taken on and off that would protect him as well as bypassing his physical limitations? He began working on the idea in secret, at first worried that his idea would be laughed at. But the more he learned and refined his concept, the more Tony thought it would work. He could build this suit, build a better man, not one of frail flesh and blood, but an iron man.  
  
By the time he graduated with honors, he had the suit entirely planned, having evolved though several stages and versions, evolving to it's current form: the Iron Man Mark II. All he needed was the chance to build it, and Stark Steel would give him that chance. He'd just explain to his father that he had a personal project to work on...  
  
Yes, he was certain that his father would allow him to 'indulge in' his personal project. His father had been so impressed and delighted by Tony's education – a double major in electronics engineering and metallurgy, with a minor in business. If he wanted a side project that wouldn't require the hiring of any additional workers or the acquisition of any expensive new machines, Howard Stark would be entirely content to let him. After all, he'd already developed several useful inventions already, gaining patents, income, and reputation for the family business even before he'd graduated.  
  
It was a wondrous thing. It had taken months of torturous effort to create it, to bring life to the images and diagrams that he'd cherished for so many years. To cast in metal and wire the suit that could answer his prayers. And in the end, it was glorious, a shining shape of steel that should enable him to far surpass the limits of his fragile mortal flesh. His hands were shaking a bit as he carefully put on the suit, his mind wondering if this was the feeling that medieval knights had when first presented with a suit of plate mail.  
  
The feeling of it… it was almost indescribable. On the one hand, it felt a bit close, almost claustrophobic, and the sensory input was limited. Sounds were a bit muffled, the visuals grainy, with slightly murky color. But he could move, and there was this odd elation from the freedom of it. He could toss cars with his metal encased hands.  
  
He'd first used it to catch a would-be saboteur. That had lead to the unsettling yet wonderful discovery that the suit was impervious to bullets. He'd taken the man to jail, turning him over to the police. Naturally, they'd wanted to know who he was. He'd felt a moment of panic, and hoped that his response wouldn't sound too far-fetched.  
  
"I am Iron Man."  
  
Thankfully, the flat mechanical voice had covered his nervousness, as well as concealing his identity. He'd claimed to be a bodyguard for Tony Stark, wearing a prototype suit under research and testing. They might not have quite believed him, but they didn't challenge his explanation at all.  
  
He'd kept working, tweaking the suit, improving things here, there, adding a feature, modifying the fit just a bit. There had also been continued efforts to steal secrets from his father's company, or destroy equipment. These efforts were continually thwarted by Iron Man.  
  
Then, he'd moved a bit farther out, trying to keep a wider area safe. Anything he found going on in the area, in the city instead of just at Stark Steel. That had been how he'd met Captain America. Yes, the real Captain America, the greatest hero of World War II, American icon and symbol of justice… the whole works. He'd ended up helping the Captain capture a super villain.  
  
Nothing in the world could compare to the way he'd felt at the simple "Good job, thanks for the help."  
  
Captain America had said 'Good job.' He'd known right then that something had changed irrevocably. He could be a hero, protect something greater than his possessions, his home. He could protect his nation, defend the American people.  
  
Of course, meeting Captain America had been just the beginning. That had started the honing of his sense of justice, his habit of protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. The frightened children, the sweet grandmothers and earnest businessmen… the people whose hearts were to fragile to let them fight their own battles. It had led to him traveling to Europe at the side of Captain America to battle the Red Skull, and then led to a desperate fight against Magneto.  
  
If he never had to fight someone with magnetic abilities again, it would be quite soon enough. That had been pure misery – his visuals had been almost gone, and the pain of that magnetic force gripping him… it would give him nightmares.  
  
But then Magneto had dropped him, and his frantic efforts not to crash had somehow led to him clipping a moving pale blur, and then he was on the ground, feeling as if the whole left side of his body was numb, watching a woman with darkish hair kneel over the figure of a blond man. He'd realized that the blond had been the moving blur.  
  
Part of him had hoped the two of them, hardly more than kids, would be alright, that they could be dragged out of this mutant superiority mess safely. Another part was hoping that his side was numb from the impact, and not a heart attack.  
  
They hadn't been able to find the kids when the police had taken Magneto away. Truthfully, nobody had looked very hard. They'd somehow turned up in America, almost a month later. They seemed to be trying to lead almost normal lives, without any sort of apparent involvement in the mutant question. He'd watched her for a while, unable o discover where the blond was staying.  
  
He'd had several long talks with Captain America, although he had been told to call him Steve. Sometimes it was still hard for him to think of Captain America having a name, of the American icon as Steve Rogers. But the two of them had come up with a dream. They'd envisioned a group of heroes, people all willing to help keep America safe, a group willing to work together. They'd first approached the man who called himself Thor, offering him a place in this group that they hoped to form. He'd jumped at the chance, and had actually been the one to suggest the name 'Avengers'.  
  
All he needed was a few more people… Fortunately, he had a list.  
  
End Iron Man. 


	2. Scarlet Witch

Avengers Reassembled: Scarlet Witch  
  
author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
main character: Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)  
  
disclaimer: the Scarlet Witch is the creation of Marvel comics. I hold no legal rights and am making no profit from this.  
  
distribution: Paula, anyone else please ask first.  
  
note: I am attempting to revise things to fit the Avengers into the world of the X-Men movies. So, this will most definitely be AU.  
  
She'd always known that she was different. Wanda Maximoff was a redhead in a clan of dark haired gypsies, the only person with hair paler than her own being her twin brother Pietro. She knew the explanation, that they hadn't really been born to the gypsy clan, that their 'mother' Belle had found the tiny infants alone in the snow and taken them for her own. They didn't know anything of their birth parents, nor had it been much of a concern. Not at first.  
  
But when she was fifteen, the differences started to grow. Oh, she had the same sort of coordination as any other girl her age, and she had been practicing dancing and acrobatics for years. But nobody was willing to play dice with her anymore. The dice always rolled in her favor. No matter who's dice or how they were weighted, they rolled for Wanda. Just like nobody would run races against Pietro, not since he started being able to run down rabbits, and outrun horses. That was when the whispers started. Different. Mutant.  
  
It had caused their friends to become more distant, and their adoptive parents to worry. The twins had started to feel that there was nobody else that understood them, nobody else like them in all the world. It was a lonely thing, and it changed them both.  
  
She'd started trying to learn more about her differences. She couldn't fly, or change into some other shape, but she could make things happen. Make things go wrong. If she concentrated, and gave a sort of mental push just so... the most unlikely 'accidents' could happen. Things would fall apart. People could fall down. It was frightening and exciting and astonishing all at once. She wondered if this was the whispered hex that a powerful seer or witch could cast in the stories. It had to be, after all, what other explanation was there? So, she began to think of herself as a witch, the Scarlet Witch, as a reference to her hair.  
  
Her brother was fast. Not Jesse Owen, Olympic sprinter fast, but speeding bullet fast. He could run, dodge, or tap dance faster than any person should be remotely capable of doing. Well, that wasn't quite true - Pietro couldn't tap dance. But he'd noticed the whispers as well, and she could tell that they'd hurt him. Pietro had pulled away, emotionally. Instead of the cheerful, laughing boy that he'd once been, he was becoming sullen, aloof and a touch bitter.  
  
Not that she really blamed him. Suddenly, it was as if they weren't enough for the only family that they'd ever known, weren't Wanda and Pietro anymore. They were 'those strange kids' or 'the mutants'.  
  
Then, they'd heard about Magneto. Whispers and rumors of a man who sought mutants, a mutant who believed that they were different, better than the rest of the world. That their differences should be a source of pride, and a badge of power. They'd fallen under his influence, partly due to his own charisma, partly due to the growing fear of the Gypsies that had been all the family that they'd had.  
  
Funny, how much of a resemblance there was between Pietro and Magneto. It was almost as if Magneto was a vision of what Pietro would look like in thirty years. He didn't look too bad, for an old man. But part of that was the intensity of his eyes, and intensity drawn from his power and his vision of the future.  
  
They'd worked with Magneto, not necessarily because they believed that mutants should rule humans, but because it gave them one place where they weren't feared. A place where they could dream that they belonged. And they wanted to belong so hard that they were willing to be the 'villains', the ones that everyone was afraid of - after all, people already feared them, what other choice was there? Starving on the streets? Lives of petty theft and low level crime?  
  
Odds were pretty good that if it hadn't been for Iron Man and Captain America, they would have stayed with Magneto, remained part of his 'Brotherhood of Mutants' until they'd won, or been killed, or lost and been imprisoned. Although she was a bit curious if any jail could truly hold her… But those two had opposed Magneto, not out of a sense of superiority, or confidence in their powers, but just because they felt it was the right thing to do.  
  
Magneto had been captured, imprisoned for a while in a Lithuanian jail. He'd stayed there for a while, possibly sulking over his plan's failure, possibly planning his next effort. The jail certainly hadn't stopped him when he'd decided to leave.  
  
She and her brother had gone to America, amazed and shocked by the deliberate blindness of Americans to the rest of the world. She and Pietro were wanted criminals through most of Europe, and in America, nobody recognized them! They'd tried to start normal lives, to just… live like normal people, instead of traveling, instead of terrorizing, instead of petty theft.  
  
She'd been bored almost to tears in less than a month.  
  
Then, there had been a knock on her door one morning, and she'd opened it to find… Captain America. In front of her apartment. After a moment of shock and worry, she'd invited him inside, offering coffee.  
  
"Wanda... you don't mind if I call you Wanda, do you?" He'd been so polite, almost as if he was uncertain of his welcome.  
  
She'd handed him a cup of coffee, thick and strong the way her mother had always made it, a bowl of sugar cubes and a tiny pitcher of cream within reach. Holding her own cup of coffee, she gestured for him to be seated in the chair even as she sank onto the couch, her hand them smoothing her long skirts in a nervous gesture. "Go ahead… I should mention that the coffee's a bit strong. Um… what brings you here today?"  
  
"I wanted to extend an invitation to you." He'd sipped at the coffee, pouring a bit of cream into it, perhaps as much for the temperature as the bite of it. "I was talking with Iron Man… we had the idea of a group of people, heroes to try to defend America. Eventually, anyhow. We would have to start on a somewhat more local scale… A group of protectors that would help those in need, defend citizens against dangers that they or the police are not equipped to handle. And a sign of the American Dream, a dream of peace and unity. We were wondering if you'd like to join."  
  
She'd been stunned. From almost anyone, the words would have sounded pompous, arrogant. From him, the only sounded sincere. "Unity… including mutants? Immigrants? What about the fact that I was a criminal?"  
  
"Yes, mutants, and people who were altered like myself, and people who've built something wonderful like Iron Man. This fear of mutants is just another sort of prejudice, and it's not right. America has traditionally welcomed immigration, and been a place for second chances." He looked so sincere, his eyes flickering with the intensity of his dream. "Will you help us make it happen?"  
  
"Do you have a name for this group?" She'd smiled, already certain that she would join.  
  
"The Avengers." He smiled, looking almost sheepish. "Will you join us?"  
  
Her own smile held anticipation, and hope. "Count me in."  
  
End Scarlet Witch. 


	3. Tigra

Avengers Reassembled: Tigra  
  
author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg 13  
  
main character: Greer Nelson (Tigra)  
  
disclaimer: Tigra is the creation of Marvel comics. I hold no legal rights and am making no profit from this.  
  
distribution: Paula, anyone else please ask first.  
  
note: I am attempting to revise things to fit the Avengers into the world of the X-Men movies. So, this will most definitely be AU.  
  
  
  
  
  
Greer sighed, wondering yet again why there were so many tests that her doctor put her through. Yes, she knew that once upon a time, her mother had participated in some sort of medical research program, and that there was 'some concern that there may be secondary effects on any offspring' but she hated the testing. Every month, they drew blood for exhaustive panels of tests, checked her reflexes, vision, everything. She felt less like they were worried about something from her mother, and more like they were looking for something in her. But she had no idea what that something could be.  
  
She was just Greer Grant-Nelson, after all. The only child of a divorced single mother, and while she had been enough of an athlete in school to win herself some nice scholarships to college, there wasn't that much unusual about her. She was on the tall side of average, and while she did have a nice set of curves and good muscle tone, she'd worked for those muscles. The most unusual things about her that she could tell was the almost orangy red of her hair and her eyes... they looked almost like the yellow green of a cat's eyes.  
  
Her doctor had been assuring he since she was eight years old that she wasn't a mutant, and there was nothing wrong with her eyes. That she was perfectly normal in every respect, and very healthy.   
  
But those assurances would carry a lot more weight if they didn't take blood every month.  
  
The day was beautiful, a few puffy clouds overhead, birds singing, people skating and biking on the campus. It was... almost too perfect. Closing her eyes, she tried to find the flaws in the picture. She could hear the wheels of roller blades squeaking, an assortment of musics from the nearby dorm, sweaty bodies with too much perfume or cologne on... okay, life wasn't perfect. Her day continued, with Professors droning on through their lectures, and students taking notes, or gossiping about plans for Saturday. She frowned, wondering why everything was sounding so much clearer this quarter, hadn't it been frustrating to try to hear the Professor in this room before? Maybe Professor Jackson just projected his voice better than Doctor White?  
  
She was out walking that night, feeling restless. The dorms felt too crowded, the walls so thin that every little noise carried clearly, and a couple of the people down the hall had... company. She really didn't need or want to know what was going on down there... So, she was outside, walking through the park like area. It was supposed to be some sort of campus beatification or botany display, but... that was a small matter. It was open, and quiet.  
  
Glass shattered to the right of her, and she heard someone demanding money...   
  
Where in the hell was the so called Campus Security during this? It wasn't right, and they were supposed to be safe here... Anger surged through her, a hot prickly flood, and then she felt like her body was stretching, almost tearing. Greer screamed, but it came out as a roar, and when she looked at her hands, her nails had become dangerous looking claws, and her hands and the rest of her body seemed to be covered with fur, orange with black stripes, like a tiger. Probing with her tongue, she discovered sharp fangs instead of her normal teeth, and the night seemed so much brighter, everything in sharp focus.  
  
Her outrage felt too powerful, too intense, and she moved towards the sounds of the fight, now easily hearing the two attackers, the frightened student insisting that he didn't have any more money. Very soon, the attackers would become more violent, seeking some form of satisfaction...   
  
Greer didn't intend to let them have that chance. She was on them, like a tiger pouncing on it's prey, and no matter how easy it would have been, she refused to take the easy route and kill them. It would be so easy, with these new sharp claws, and with the amazing strength and reflexes that she seemed to have acquired, but... Killing wasn't a good thing. And if she did kill them, suddenly it would go from 'pair of muggers stopped' to 'students slaughtered in parking lot'. But the freedom that she felt, oh God, it was wonderful.  
  
The pair of muggers were down now, still breathing, but not moving. The near victim was staring at her, his jaw dropped, eyes wide, and he was just... he reeked of fear. That hurt, stinging far more than her change had, and she turned and bolted.  
  
The wind in her face was wonderful, and she couldn't believe how fast she seemed to be moving. Everything was stronger, more intense. She leapt into a tree, making the fifteen foot jump to the lowest branch with ease, her tail helping regain her balance as she landed... Tail? She had a tail and fur? What had happened to her? A frantic self inspection showed that she seemed to have become some sort of humanoid cat. It was... at the same time incredibly liberating and terrifying. Was this... had her doctor been looking for some sign of this all those years? Had they... had someone known that this was possible? Was she stuck like this now, or could she become herself again?  
  
Greer crouched in the tree, eyes closed, and tried to sort out exactly how this had even happened. She had changed, and she had to understand it. Gradually, she regained her calm, and concentrated on herself as she normally looked, with no fur, no tail, human ears and teeth... Greer Nelson, not some tiger woman. Again, she felt like her body was prickling and stretching, and then it was as if everything was muted, muffled and blurred. The smells and sounds were less intense, and her vision wasn't as sharp.  
  
She'd changed back.  
  
She almost felt lightheaded from relief. She had changed back, which meant that that furry shape wasn't permanent. She could still... what? What did she do now? She jumped from the tree, landing carefully on the ground, wondering exactly what she intended to do with her life. Clearly, despite everything her mother and her doctor had been saying, she was not normal. Which meant that becoming a professional athlete would be sort of like cheating. What did she want to do with her life?  
  
She wanted to help people. When she thought about it like that, without worrying about what sort of degree she wanted, or how much income a potential job would give her, she wanted to help people. Greer just wasn't quite certain how to go about it. Legal mattters almost put her to sleep, chemistry was one of her worst classes, which ruled out most of the medical field, she'd never really seen much to support politics as an actual aid to people, and guns gave her a headache, which ruled out police or military if she had a choice. But where did that leave her? She sighed, looking at one of the newspaper boxes on the campus, seeing a headline about Captain America.  
  
Maybe she could be a hero? Try to stop criminals, save people in danger, all that? Could she do that and hold a paying job? What would she call herself? Catwoman? The tiger? Claw? Hmm... that would bear a bit of thinking.  
  
Over the next few weeks, she practiced changing deliberately, and while it was easier if she was experiencing strong anger or fear, she could change more or less at will. The most noticeable effect was that it made her hungrier, she was eating almost twice as much now. Part of that could have been from the fact that she'd been… sort of supplementing the campus security. Taking down muggers, stopping thieves, she'd even dragged off and resisted maiming an attempted rapist. She was trying to get a feel for this, to see if she could really be a hero.  
  
So far, it was looking promising. She had the physical advantages, reflexes, speed, amazing senses, and those claws… But the biggest surprise had come when one of the people that she'd decided to stop, someone outside one of the clubs near the campus had pulled a gun on her. She'd panicked, and had just sort of ducked behind a car, her hands sort of moving in what should have been a motion that would pull her down faster… Except that she'd flipped the car on it's side, and it had nearly toppled on the gunman. She'd grabbed him while he stared at the teetering car, and had only allowed herself to ponder the implications later.  
  
She definitely had the physical qualifications for being a super hero.  
  
With her stomach fluttering, Greer decided that there was only one way to go – ask for proper guidance. Sort of like an internship, only a bit more risky than most business careers. And who better to ask than one of the local super heroes? There were two in the area, Captain America and this… Iron Man, who was some sort of employee of Stark Steel.  
  
She started to search through the city, trying to deal with any criminals that she happened onto, but looking for one of the heroes. Her plan was to ask them to teach her, to help her learn to be a hero. She found their scents several times, but it took her almost another month to find them, and by that time, there was a third hero working with them, a tall blond man calling himself Thor.  
  
She'd dropped onto the street near Captain America, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace as he turned, facing her in a wary stance. He looked even more impressive in person, the uniform glimmering, the embodiment of the American Hero.  
  
"I want you to teach me how to be a hero." Her voice hadn't shaken, although it didn't sound nearly as confident as she'd hoped the statement would. Actually, it had sounded almost like a plea.  
  
"Being a hero isn't easy, young… lady. It can be dangerous, and often thankless." He sounded thoughtful, and had given her this look, as if he was trying to figure out who she was and what she could do.  
  
"I wasn't looking for easy. I want to help people." She wanted to make him understand, to let him know that she wasn't looking for her picture in the paper, or fame.  
  
"Then work with us. Join us, become an Avenger." He sounded so confident, and there was an intensity to his eyes, a rich blue visible through the half mask that covered his face.  
  
"An Avenger?" The name was new to her.  
  
"We can accomplish more together than separate. If we cooperate, we can be more versatile, more effective. We can protect more people more effectively. And we can help each other to learn and adapt to new situations." He offered his hand, as if expecting a handshake.  
  
The offer was everything that she could hope for. A chance to learn, to become a real hero. She accepted his hand, smiling at his grip. "Gladly."  
  
End Tigra. 


End file.
